


Hey Jude

by Valeada



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Death from Old Age, Destiel - Freeform, Gen, Heaven, Hey Jude, M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1484932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeada/pseuds/Valeada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel could feel the end of Dean's life slowly approaching like the needle of a record player nearing the centre of a record. </p><p>Basically Dean has lived to a ripe old age, and his time has come to kick the bucket. Castiel sings him to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Jude

**Author's Note:**

> I was on vacation and came up with this idea, and needed to get it down so that I could listen to Hey Jude without crying again.  
> I'm also on tumblr, my url is gabrielsfeatherybutt.tumblr.com

      Castiel could feel the end of Dean's life slowly approaching like the needle of a record player nearing the centre of a record. Dean's life could very easily described as a record, the years before the death of his mother represented by the smooth, easy outer ring of silence before the song began. But then the opening notes would play, and he was no longer a child, simple a soldier. A hunter. The middle of the record was heavily grooved, covered in skips and scratches, never enough to shake the needle completely from its course. After a chaotic, dramatic bridge, however, the song had taken a calming turn. Everything had, for years, been calm and simple. Easy. Dean had earned it. This simple life the two of them shared, the shift from friends to something more coming as seamlessly as a stream joining a river. But all songs must end, and all men must die. Castiel could, of course, heal any sort of illness or injury Dean sustained, but this was different.

      As Dean had aged Castiel had healed all of his minor injuries, his swollen joints, his arthritis, his broken hips; as far as ageing went Castiel made sure that Dean had it fairly easily. But there was only so much that he could do. Castiel could feel the nature of Dean's soul's interactions with the body housing it change. Dean's physical body was becoming stretched and tired, like a piece of tissue paper trying to hold back a bowling ball. It was holding for now, but Castiel had known for a while that the time was coming when that tissue paper would fail, and now, both sooner and later than he had hoped, that day was here.

      It was, over all, and uneventful day, much like the days had been for the past fifty years. The days of monsters versus man and angels versus demons were long behind them. Now their days were filled with card games and TV shows and simply sitting in silence, the two of them both content to sit together and enjoy the fact that they, against all odds, were both able to be there in that moment together of their own free will. (Dean had grown increasingly sentimental as he aged, no matter how vehemently he denied it.) Castiel did his best to act normally, to make it seem as if there was nothing wrong. He didn't want to worry Dean. Although the two of them had previously agreed that when Dean's time came Castiel was to simply let him go, he didn't want their last day together to be marred by the anticipation of its end.

      Although, if Castiel was being honest he thought that Dean knew. He never said anything, but the lingering, melancholic but loving glances at Castiel, the was Dean ran his hands over the objects in their small home as if he were saying goodbye, the glances out the window as though he was trying to take in as much of this world with the time he had left in it all bore the mark of a man preparing for the end of his days. But even though both of them knew neither one said anything, content with the air of understanding between the two of them,

      The record was reaching the final notes of its song.

      From the day Dean turned 70 he had taken a nap every afternoon. He'd earned it, he said. He'd fought off the damn apocalypse and the end of the world so many times that he was allowed to take a goddamn nap in the afternoon if he wanted to. His excuses were unnecessary, Castiel could never fault him for anything, not anymore. So it was that Castiel found himself lingering by the doorway of their bedroom as he watched Dean get ready for a nap, slipping into their shared bed with a small yawn, his mouth opening wide and stretching out the the wrinkles time had worn there.

      “And as I lay me down to sleep I pray for Cas to get his feathery behind over here.” Dean yawned again as he settled into his pillow. Castiel's mouth twitched up into a small smile as he as he did as Dean requested, kneeling down next to Dean as taking hold of one of his hands. Dean turned his head so that he could give him a smile so full of love and emotion that Castiel almost felt his heart break.

      “Hey Cas.” Dean said softly, gently rubbing his wrinkled thumb against Castiel's much smoother, unchanged one.

      “Hello Dean.” Castiel murmured in reply, smiling sadly back at him. Dean bit his lip for a moment, a question on the tip of his tongue.

      “Is it...?” He asked, not able to complete his question. But Castiel understood. He nodded solemnly, enable to say it aloud either.

      Dean sighed, letting his eyes slip closed as a flurry of emotions swept through him. Dean's eyes remained shut for so long that Castiel almost thought he had fallen asleep, before Dean;s voice broke through the thoughts he was immersed in.

     “Hey, uh, Cas?” Dean asked, his voice slightly wary.

      “Yes Dean?” Castiel said, stroking the pad of his thumb across Dean's hand.

      “Could... could you sing me a lullaby?” Dean said, so quietly that a human probably would have missed it.

      “Of course, Dean, anything.” Castiel agreed with a small smile. Even after fifty years Dean still had trouble asking for what he wanted. He brought the back of Dean/s hand to his lips and kissed it softly. Castiel didn't need to ask or even think about what song Dean wanted from him, there was only ever the one.

             “ _Hey Jude._ ”

      Castiel sang quietly, watching Dean's eyes clench tightly shut with emotion.

            “ _Don't make it bad._

_Take a sad song and make it better_

_Remember to let her into your heart_

_Then you can start_

_To make it better.”_

     Dean let out a shaky breath, catching his lower lips between his teeth and Castiel paused his singing, unsure of whether Dean wanted him to go on.

     “Keep going.” Dean said, removing any sort of question. Castiel nodded and continued to sing.

          “ _Hey Jude_

_Don't be afraid_

_You were made to go out and get her_

_The minute you let her under your skin_

_Then you begin_

_To make it better.”_

    He sang slowly. Castiel never had a great voice. He was a seraph, a soldier, not a fluffy little cherub who sat on clouds singing praise to their Father while plucking on a harp. Jimmy hadn't been much of a singer either, and his voice was low and rough and Dean deserved better. He deserved a choir of angles to sing him to sleep, their voices cradling his soul as it floated its way up to heaven. But judging by the look on his face Castiel was enough for Dean. They had always been enough for each other.

          “ _And any time you feel the pain_

_Hey Jude, refrain_

_Don't carry the world upon your shoulder_

_And well you know that it's a fool_

_Who plays it cool_

_By making his world a little colder.”_

   Castiel sang, his voice getting a little shaky with emotion. He paused for a moment to collect himself, swallowing around the lump in his throat, taking a deep breath before continuing with a shaky voice.

_“H-hey Jude_

_Don't let me down_

_You have found her, now go and get her_

_Remember to let her into your heart_

_Then you can start_

_To make it better”_

   He heard Dean take a sharp intake of breath and Dean's hand clenched tightly around Castiel's. Castiel looked over at him, biting his lip. Dean's eyes were clenched tightly shut in pain, and Castiel felt himself go pale. No. This was not going to happen this way. If Dean had to... If Dean's life was going to come to an end then Castiel was going to make sure he was going peacefully. Dean deserved that much. (Dean deserved so much more, Dean deserved everything, but this was all that Castiel could give him.) Castiel continued to sing, feeling his eyes prickle dangerously with the threat of tears as he let some of his grace, weakened from his years away from heaven, seep into Dean through their joined hands to ease his pain.

_“So let it out and let it in,_

_H-Hey Jude, begin_

_You're waiting for so-someone to perform with._

_And don't you know that it's j-just y-you_

_Hey Jude, you'll do._

_The moment you need is on your sh-shoulder.”_

    He sang shakily, squeezing Dean's hand. Castiel felt a little bit like he was dying himself. His chest was tight, his heart beating almost painfully in his chest as is breathing threatened to turn into something haggard and uncontrolled. Dean gave a large sigh of relief as Castiel's grace began to ease his pain, visibly relaxing on the bed as his breathing slowed to match the pace of his faintly beating heart.

         “ _Hey Jude.”_

   Castiel sang quietly, so softly it was almost a whisper.

         “ _Don't make it bad._

_Take a sad song and make it better.”_

   His singing became a little more disjointed, pausing in between the phrases as he watched Dean closely, listening to the slowly fading beats of his heart while he still could.

_“Remember to let her under your skin”_

   He sang in time to Dean's heartbeat, his voice quavering slightly as he heard Dean's heart stutter, beating out a funeral march.

         “ _Then you begin...”_

   He half sang, half spoke as Dean seemed to sigh, practically deflating on the bed.

         “ _To_

_Make_

_It...”_

   Castiel let the notes echo throughout the room, his voice cracking. He couldn't bring himself to sing the final word, not with how close Dean was to Death. But the actions of one cannot always reverse fate, even when it comes to the Winchesters.

   The needle completed its course, slipping onto the smooth, unmarked surface that signaled the end of the song. The needle spun around and around, awaiting a hand to pick it up and start its path over again on a new song, a new record, or else to stop the spinning of the record.

   An angel was left alone crying in a bedroom with nothing but a corpse for company.

 

*****

 

   Dean was wandering through a forest. He wasn't sure how he got there, all he knew was that his joints didn't hurt, and he felt freer than he had in years. Suddenly a grin burst onto his face and he burst into a sprint, the wind whipping over his face as he ran, spreading his arms out to his sides and throwing his head back with a crow of jubilation. He finally felt free. Young again. The years of age he had accumulated flew off of him as he ran and ran and ran until he came to the end of the woods. He caught sight of a house ahead of him, and though he didn't know where he was or recognize the house the warm light and the smell of something sweet (Oh crap, was that pie?) baking somehow told him that this was where he should be.

   He jogged up the path to the front door, gravel crunching under his feet, and came to rest in front of the door. He paused for a moment, unsure of whether or not he should knock. He raised his fist, but as soon as his knuckles touched the door it sung open invitingly, and Dean took a cautious step inside.

   He heard footsteps, someone was coming. He too a step back, almost out of the house, before he realized that it was Castiel, a larger smile than Dean had ever seen blooming on his face.

   “Welcome home, Dean.”

   The needle of the record player spun and spun around in a circle, never stopping, the silence it produced weaving its own kind of song, heard only by those who cared to listen.

 


End file.
